Song of the Black Rose
by VEGETARIAN.MEAT.LOAF
Summary: Tressa is the new student at the DWMA. No one is really sure what to think about her, except Soul, who immediately becomes her friend being so similar to her. When Tressa begins to disappear continuously, leaving black roses in her wake, what will happen?


**Okay, so this is the rewritten version of Hunting the Soul, which will be taken down shortly. I'm glad with how this plot is laying out, better than the previous. Yes, says the title, there will be a reference to black roses in this story. A **_**strong **_**reference. I hope you like this one more, as I do. Rate & Review ;3 ~VML**

**Onward!**

When you're told that there's a new student coming to the DWMA, naturally you'd get curious. Why? That's because most of the new students have been…odd. When Kid arrived, Black Star tried to assassinate him. When Crona was new, he tried to escape every chance he got. I wasn't sure what to think about the new kid. _Her_.

I watched from the classroom window as Black Star warmed up for his upcoming "assassination mission". Tsubaki grudgingly walked alongside him as he stretched and flipped in all directions. He didn't even notice a student walk past him on her way to the entrance.

She wore a white sundress the hung down to her knees and loose-laced sneakers. Her long ginger braid swayed in the air with a sudden breeze. This same gust of air slammed the window in my face and sent me flopping ungracefully onto my back from where I looked lazily up into the disapproving green eyes of my technician partner, Maka. I waited for a solid blow to the face with one of her textbooks and a strict order to go down to my seat. It didn't happen. Instead, she opened the window again and gazed down on the current scene.

Black Star was flailing his arms around, yelling something at the girl with the ginger hair. Tsubaki stood behind him, giving the victim an apologetic look. When Black Star finished yelling, the ginger girl simply waved back with a carefree smile and walked into the building. I laughed. And I laughed _hard_. I had to get a picture of that priceless face. Good thing Liz and Patty already had that covered. Freaking paparazzi; they made me wonder what things they could blackmail _me _with.

Back in my seat by Maka, I pulled out a stack of paper for note taking and my favorite (yes, I have one,) pen. I liked pens more than pencils, I never really knew why. Maka scolded me saying that if I made an error, it'd all be over. I simply replied, "Then you get to cross it out in red. It looks cool, compared to your flat chest and fat ankles." She didn't like that, however, and I had the imprint of the history book spine in the back of my skull for the next week.

In fact, Maka was lecturing me on who knows what when I bumped shoulders with the person on my left. _Wait, no one sits in that seat_. I looked over my shoulder at the ginger-haired girl in the white sundress. She looked up from her papers and smiled warmly at me before turning her attention to the front of the class, where Stein was sending Black Star back into the hallway, Tsubaki in his shadow. I waved my hand dismissively in Maka's direction and turned in the direction of the new girl.

She caught my gaze and said, "May I help you?" Her voice was sweet, with a slight accent. Her eyes were deep purple and sparkled faintly with something fierce. Maybe it was just an exotic trait.

"Hey, you're the new student; I should be the one helping you," I said, shrugging. I ruffled my albino hair with a tan hand before continuing. "So, what's your name?"

She smiled. "My name is Huntress." Looking deep into her eyes, I understood that fierce vibe in an instant. A huntress.

"Soul. That's an odd name, no offense," I decided to say "Soul" instead of "Soul Eater" because "Soul Eater" isn't a name that attracts many people. Maybe, if I tried, she wouldn't hate me. "Where'd you appear from?"

"Japan. I like to go by Tressa, if you don't mind. 'Huntress' is an over the top name my mother came up with," Tressa mumbled. She didn't appear to like mentioning her name, or maybe it was her mother. _Like me_. Her eyes softened after a moment, and I took that as an apologetic gesture to her mom. Something told me to ask more questions. But then I saw her fiddling with my pen.

But…my pen was on the table…but then…it was also in her hand. Major brain malfunction. "Hey, is that _your _pen?" I pointed blankly at the pen in her hand; the sleek black utensil with a treble clef painted in gold on the side. Tressa gave me a confused look.

"Of course it is. Why would you…" she trailed off and I assumed she saw my pen on the desk. Then there was a long silence in which we stared blankly into the other's eyes, probing for answers. _I've never seen another pen like mine. I didn't even get it from a store. It was… _It was a gift from my parents. That's right…yeah. I don't know why, but I knew she was thinking the same thing.

"Tressa, why are you using a pen instead of a pencil?" I crossed my fingers under the desk, hoping that she wouldn't say what I thought—what I knew—she would say.

"I like pens more than pencils, I don't really know why. I mean, if you make a mistake, you just get to cross it out in red." She whispered, like she didn't want anyone else to hear.

My hope was slipping. "And why do you do that?"

"Because it looks cool."

_Jackpot._

**I hope you liked it! Do you see the bond? Huh, do ya? I know you do. See you later! Until then, farewell! ~VML**


End file.
